


Year One

by RingosLiverpool8



Series: HP/Beatles crossover [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Beatles
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:37:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RingosLiverpool8/pseuds/RingosLiverpool8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Multi-Series, Multi-Chapter work.<br/>Paul McCartney is part of a long line of dark wizards and also a prominent pure-blood family. He's not into the dark magic that his family delves in, he takes a liking to music and charms and even divination although he is good at everything. Eventual McLennon fic...just hang with me here, Paul's only 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if there's any glaring mistakes. I'm messing a bit with timelines because I want to include Voldy in here as well as Harry (not a major character AT ALL) so if you don't like it....well...  
> Anyway. I don't own The Beatles and assoc., Harry Potter...  
> This is fiction, blah blah blah.

Death Eater families are proud of their dark lineage and the McCartney family is no exception. A long history of powerful male heirs has kept their name feared among the wizarding world. Jim McCartney sired two healthy young boys to continue that name and he just knew his boys would be the Dark Lord's most valued servants. His oldest, of course, being the most powerful of the two. At first, when that daft, foolish wizard cursed his wife, he was scared. Once the child was born, the curse seemed to turn out to nothing. James Paul McCartney would be the perfect child in their pure-blood dynasty and the youngest, Michael, would follow. They were a proud family.

Mary McCartney home-schooled her boys until they turned 11 and they went off to Hogwarts. As they predicted, Paul, as he liked to be called, turned out to be quite intelligent and very magical. His abilities started to show when he was three, turning the family cat pink and making the house elf float. Paul was a happy child, there were only a few moments where he didn't smile: When he broke his arm and when he got picked on by the muggle kids for looking feminine. Of course, his father took care of them, but the muggle kids weren't wrong. He had a lot of baby fat in his cheeks and body, his eye lashes were long and full and his eyebrows curved perfectly along his droopy, yet adorable, hazel-brown eyes. Family members always grabbed his cheeks and pinched, something Paul hated everytime. Paul took after their mother and Mike took after their father.

On Paul's fourth birthday, Jim was hauled off to be interrogated. Paul and Mike cried. They didn't know the family tie with the Dark Lord, much less who the Dark Lord was. A week later, Jim returned skinnier than before and very weak. Mary worried about her husband and her family because she knew that they'd never be trusted. Somehow, though, Jim managed to get off without being thrown in Azkaban. She didn't care how, she was just glad her boys had a father.

When Paul's letter came, they all celebrated. Paul couldn't wait to get his own wand and robes. His father said he could even get his own cat to take with him. To Paul's delight, Mike was jealous. He still had a few years to go. Paul had been to Diagon Alley with his parents many times, mostly just to get into their vault at Gringotts. But sometimes, Mary would take them to Florean Fortescue’s for some ice cream. Mike loved going into Kockturn Alley. The strange people there awed him. Paul found it a bit dark and damp. He preferred the sunny, lively atmosphere of Diagon Alley. He especially loved the quirky Mr. Ollivander. The stories Mr. Ollivander told him about the wands made him smile and giggle. ‘The wand chooses the wizard’, Paul was told and his wand chose him: rowan wood, 12 ½ inches, with a phoenix tail feather core. Ollivander told him he would have to gain the trust of his wand since rowan wood requires loyalty. There was also something special about him. Paul was going to be a _very_ powerful wizard, dark or light, Mr. Ollivander did not know. Paul knew, though, he’d always known.

~~~~

**_King’s Cross Station_ **

Paul double checked everything. He had his robes, his wand, his cauldron, his books, and his calico cat, Thisbe. His mother fussed about him staying out of trouble and his father rambled on about how he just knew Paul would be in Slytherin. Paul could only smile because the train that would finally take him to Hogwarts awaited him between platforms nine and ten. The McCartney family ran through the brick wall, all smiles, except Mike, who was jealous again. Mike had yet to show his magical abilities. Their mother believed that Mike was a late bloomer, much like their Auntie Jin.

Paul stood in awe at the vastness of the Hogwarts Express. As excited as he was, he couldn’t shake the feeling that no one would like him or talk to him. All the muggle kids he met teased him and thought he was weird. Paul began to think maybe he was. He shook the pessimistic thoughts and hugged his family. He made a vow to always find the positives and that no matter what, he would be happy.

On the train, he found an empty compartment and placed his things up on the racks above. Thisbe stayed in his lap. That feeling of dread from earlier filled his heart again as he watched student after student walk by and ignore him. Holding back tears, he turned his attention to the purring ball of warmth in his lap and smiled once again. Paul played with his cat’s paws, failing to notice the door to the compartment slide open.

“Excuse me, but, is anyone sitting here?”

Paul’s eyes shot upwards. “N-no. Go ahead.” The owner of the voice revealed a toothy grin. The boy, Paul noticed, was a little taller and had a similar accent. One he recognized from his hometown, Liverpool.

“I’m Paul McCartney.” Paul finally decided to say.

The other boy stuffed part of a sandwich into his mouth. “Ivan. You from Liverpool too?”

“Yeah,” Paul replied, “Are your parents’ wizards too?”

“No. Half-blood.” Ivan said confidently. “What about you?”

“Um…” Paul began nervously.

“Hey, don’t be afraid if you’re not from a wizard family, mate. Most of us aren’t prejudiced.”

Paul smiled at that. “Um. I’m pure-blood.”

“You’re a _McCartney_ …” Ivan replied, a little shocked.

“I promise I’m nothing like my family. I’m not into the dark stuff.” Paul attempted to explain.

“Eh. I don’t care. You seem pretty nice.” Ivan smiled again.

Paul and Ivan talked all the way to Hogwarts about their families and the things they like to do. Ivan found it surprising that Paul liked music, what with being a pure-blood and all that. Paul loved having Ivan to talk to. He made him more confident about making friends. Yep, Paul was going to love Hogwarts. He was sure.


	2. The Sorting Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be a long series.... So bear with me!! Thanks for reading!! Don't own HP or the Beatles, Just the plot.

Ivan stayed by Paul's side, just as nervous about being sorted. Paul knew that he'd be in Slytherin because of his family, but he couldn't stop thinking that he might not and how disappointed his father would be. The two boys tried talking about the boats that magically pulled them all the way to the castle and about the big man, Hagrid, who accompanied them. Paul was rather fond of Hagrid. He seemed scary at first but Paul found it easy to talk to him. There was only kindness in Hagrid's eyes.

The first years all crowded together in front of two large, wooden doors which Paul assumed led into the Great Hall. What he had seen of the castle matched up with what his mother described to him. But those descriptions didn't do the structure justice. Everything was more elegant and grand than he ever imagined. Maybe, he thought, he would build a castle like this one day. Ivan tugged on Paul's robe to get his attention. A strict looking woman appeared in front of them.

"Good Evening, I am professor McGonagall," she greeted them, "in just a few moments you will be led into the Great Hall and sorted into your houses. There will be a speech from your Headmaster and then dinner will begin. I expect your best behavior, any disregard for the rules will end in disciplinary action and loss of house points. Now, wait here until I come to retrieve you for the ceremony." She stalked off, the clacking of her heels echoed through the castle. Ivan kept a hold of Paul's robe through her address to the gaggle of 11 year olds.

"I don't want to be in Slytherin." Ivan finally said.

Paul frowned. "It won't be bad if you are."

Ivan looked at Paul apologetically. "Sorry. You know the stories. You Know Who was Slytherin."

Paul huffed. "But that doesn't mean everyone is a dark wizard. I'm probably going to be Slytherin. My family has been for generations."

Ivan knew Paul wouldn't be a dark wizard but he had to be wary. His mother told him the stories about the McCartney family and their tendencies to use the forbidden curses on anyone who wasn't pure-blood. There was one McCartney who was executed for torturing and killing muggles. Ivan wondered if Paul knew about him. It probably wouldn't be right to ask him since Ivan's silence put him in a foul mood. He'd have to apologize to Paul after dinner.

Professor McGonagall returned and faced the first years. "We're ready for you." The wide-eyed children followed her through the doors and into the Great Hall. Paul gawked at the huge interior with the seemingly endless ceiling, enchanted with floating candles and the night sky. The older students stared at them as they made their way to the front, some even waved. At the front stood a stool with a dirty, patched, pointed hat on top. Paul figured it was the sorting hat. Once situated the hat sang a tune, expressing the core values of each house. Finished, the hat fell silent and Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a scroll.

"Ivan Vaughan."

Ivan audibly gulped next to Paul and shuffled forward. Paul watched and held his breath. The hat popped back to life upon being set on Ivan's head.

"Gryffindor!" It yelled and the table in the middle whooped and clapped. Ivan hopped down off the stool and happily made his way to a table full of smiles. Paul felt a twinge of hurt.

McGonagall called out the next name, "Percy Weasley!"

Paul knew the name Weasley. They were pure-bloods like the McCartneys. But his family always said they were the worst kind of pure-blood. They said they were a disgrace.

The bright red-haired kid made his way to the stool, nose high in the air.

As soon as the hat touched his head the hat yelled, "Hah! Weasley! Better be, Gryffindor!" The same table again whistled and hollered.

Several more people went up before Paul. They were all sorted into the remaining three houses, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Finally, it was Paul's turn.

"Paul McCartney!" McGonagall yelled out and the room fell silent. A few murmurs could be heard from behind him. He searched the room for Ivan, Paul might still be mad at him but he needed a familiar face. He sat still on the stool and felt the hat places on his head.

"Well..." It said, "It's been a while since I've sorted a McCartney. I wondered when I'd be on top of your head. It's curious though, there's a difference. Yes, I can feel it. But the McCartney staple of perseverance and self-confidence are there. Hmm...it must be, Slytherin!"

Paul relaxed and let out the breath he was holding. The table on the far right cheered as he walked over. Several of the older kids patted him on the back. He smiled widely. Being in Slytherin wouldn't be so bad, would it?

The sorting finished and the old man with the long white beard welcomed them to another year and went over some rules. He explained how the house cup works and the point system. Paul was excited and hoped Slytherin would win. The welcome speech concluded and dinner appeared in front of them. He made himself a plate and settled down in his seat.

"I'm Zander Pillingsworth," the first year next to him said and held out his hand.

Paul grinned and took the boy's hand. "Paul McCartney."

Paul would fit in quite well with the Slytherins. He couldn't wait to meet more people and to get started on his classes. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table to try and find Ivan. To his surprise, Ivan was looking at him too. Ivan smiled and mouthed something Paul couldn’t quite understand so he furrowed his eyebrows questioningly. Paul didn’t notice the other Slytherins were watching him. Eventually, Paul understood that Ivan was trying to apologize for what he said earlier. He grinned and somehow signed that he wasn’t mad. Turning back around, he raised an eyebrow at the others at his table.

“What,” he asked “I can’t be friends with other people?”

“They’re _Gryffindor_ , though.” A girl sneered.

“So? That feud is stupid. Ivan’s my friend.” Paul crinkled his nose up. If there’s one thing Paul couldn’t stand, is when his friends are insulted. After that, Paul ended up making friends with the girl, Dorothy, and the others at the table. They found his loyalty admirable.

When dinner ended, he was ushered off by their house prefects to show them the rest of the castle and the common room. Paul jumped up and eagerly followed the prefects. So many thoughts ran through his head. Who were his roommates, where were they going, how do the stairs move, what was Ivan doing? Paul was pretty sure he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may edit this chapter.... so check back sometime tonight.


	3. The Frist Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!!! Thanks again to Júlia for talking me through this!!! 
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY RINGO!!!!! Peace and Love, everyone.

Paul didn’t sleep last night, he just couldn’t. The excitement overwhelmed him. As the first one up and the first one dressed, he got the common room to himself for a few minutes. He loved looking in the Black Lake. _In it._ The Slytherin common room is located under the Black Lake. He could see the fish and the plants and even the mermaid's castle off in the distance. When students started to appear in the common room, Paul decided to make his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Paul walked alone, passing a bunch of older. He kept his eyes forward, careful not to draw attention to himself.

At first, Paul thought the castle would be confusing and difficult to navigate, but he ended up getting it. He spent some of his time last night memorizing the layout of Hogwarts. There was no way Paul McCartney would be late to his first class: Potions. Especially since their head of house, Professor Snape, was teaching. He did not want to make a bad impression on the first day.

In the Great Hall, students all sat mixed together. A Ravenclaw next to a Gyriffindor, a Hufflepuff with a Slytherin. Paul spotted Ivan with three other Gryffindors and walked up to them.

"Hi, Ivan." Paul said with a friendly smile. The other Gryffindors sneered at him.

Ivan defended Paul. "This is Paul, not your typical Slytherin and not your typical McCartney."

They untwisted their faces and a rather stout girl addressed Paul. "You seem nice, I guess."

"Thanks." Paul smiled again and sat his stuff down next to Ivan. He enjoyed a nice glass of pumpkin juice and something that tasted like cinnamon while listening to Ivan's friends tell stories about their families. Paul didn't like to talk about his family much, given the stigma surrounding it. So he just liked to listen.

"Paul can play music and sing." Ivan suddenly said.

Red-faced from embarrassment, Paul shrugged. "Just a little. I can only play a few chords on a guitar."

"You should join the choir, then." One of them said.

"There's a choir?" Paul inquired enthusiastically.

"The Frog Choir. Led by Professor Flitwick, the charms professor."

"Just ask him whenever you have charms." Ivan suggested.

"Okay." Paul couldn’t help but feel elated by his decision to join the school choir. Tonight, he decided, he would write to his mother. He couldn’t wait to tell her everything that happened.

The rest of Paul’s first day went on uneventful until charms came along. There was so much for his to take in. How to move his wand and how to levitate things. Charms had been the first class where he had properly used his wand and Paul swore he could feel the slender piece of wood hum at his touch, as if admiring him. He flashed back to what Mr. Ollivander said about earning the trust of his wand and smiled. His wand trusted him.

Paul managed to get the feather up on the first try, earning praise from Professor Flitwick. At the end of class, he did approach Professor Flitwick about the Frog Choir. The professor gave him a date and time for auditions. Paul could have sworn he saw a look of shock on his face. Perhaps, Paul thought, it had something to do with his last name. Anyways, it was almost time for his last class: Flying.

Paul’s father had put him on a broom maybe once in his life and he fell off. That’s how he broke his arm. Jim McCartney played Quidditch during his time at Hogwarts as a beater. His boys, Jim believed, would also be Quidditch players. Paul remembered being upset at the disappointment on his father’s face and then his mother scolding his father about putting Paul on a broom at three. It was traumatizing for Paul and that sort of thing sticks with a kid, or at least in Paul’s opinion. He didn’t want to admit that he was terrified.

After Paul spent ten minutes mentally preparing himself for another bone break, he realized he wasn't as bad as he thought. The broom responded to him immediately. Actually lifting off the ground wasn't a problem, he just didn't like it. Paul didn't want to play Quidditch, as much as it would disappoint his father. There were other things he wanted to focus on, like passing his classes. He never told his parents, but he had a secret ambition. Paul wanted to be an Auror.

When his father was taken away on his fourth birthday, Paul found out later what the men who took him did for a living. Growing up, he developed an aversion to the dark magic his family practiced. He saw what it did to people and Paul liked people, even muggles.

Classes were done for the day and Paul's head was swimming with information. If there was one thing he never thought he'd say, it was that he _wanted_ to do homework. Paul liked all of his classes (except for flying, of course) and all of his professors and he found he wasn't terrible at any subject, really.

Paul sat down at a table in the Slytherin common room, one that had a nice view of the Black Lake. Dipping his quill into ink, he started on the letter to his parents (well mostly his mother)

_Mum,_

_The first day was great! You were right about the castle. Everything was as you said. I got nervous at the sorting because I thought I might not be in Slytherin. The hat said I was different. I made friends though, Zander and Dot are Slytherins and Ivan's a Gryffindor. I like Ivan a lot. He told me I should try for the Frog Choir and I think I'm going to. I know Da wants me to be a Quidditch player but I'm just not that good at flying and I don't really like it. Plus, I want time to study. I really want to do well and get good marks._

_I miss you, Mum. Tell Mike and Da hello. Love you,_

_Paul_

He sealed up the envelope and addressed it for home and his mother's name. The owlry tower stood just about three minutes from the castle. Paul made sure to pack extra food just in case. Since he had a cat, he had to use one of the delivery owls. Even if he could use Thisbe, she wouldn't be able to walk that far. For some reason, she was getting fat. Paul figured his classmates were feeding her.

The Great Hall was packed full for dinner and the houses sat separated again. Paul met up with Zander and Dot before to walk together. Zander boasted about his first day, saying he knew everything the teachers taught him and Dot glanced between Paul and the floor, not saying a word. Paul smiled between his friends. He couldn’t imagine a better day.


	4. The Frog Choir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally made up a curse and I messed with the time-line of Golden Slumbers a little bit. Hope you like this chapter! It's a little short but...  
> I don't own the Beatles or HP. This is fiction.

Two and a half months have passed and Paul sat jiggling his leg during Defense Against the Dark Arts, or DADA for short. He still had thirty minutes until class was over and the nerves within him wouldn't sit still. His Frog Choir auditions were in thirty minutes.

"Mr. McCartney?"

Paul quickly looked up at his professor. "Hm?"

"I asked you a question, Mr. McCartney." His professor crossed his arms and stared at him impatiently. Paul didn’t like this professor very much, it seemed like every day he was being asked the majority of questions. He learned after day one that he had to study ahead every night so he would get the answers right.

His eyes widened. "I'm sorry, sir. What was the question?"

"Five points from Slytherin. I expect you to pay attention next time."

Several groans came from the classroom and Paul turned a bright red. His stomach did a flip and he felt sick. It turns out, he knew the answer to the question. He should have been paying attention. Paul tried to forget the incident before his audition, but it was being stubborn. There was one thing he thought would settle his mind.

After class, Paul approached his professor.

"Sir?" He spoke small.

"Mr. McCartney."

"I want to apologize for earlier. I'm just really nervous about my audition for the Choir. I promise it won't happen again."

The professor eyed him curiously. There wasn't really much of the McCartney’s in the boy. Not in attitude or looks. Plus, a McCartney would never have apologized, let alone try out for choir. Sure, he had a grudge against the McCartney family. He cursed the first born child after all. However, it looks as though it didn't take. Or he had it under control.

"Thank you, Mr. McCartney. I suppose I can let this one slide. You can have your five points back."

Paul smiled. "Thank you, sir. I really promise I won't get distracted again." The professor nodded and waved him off.

"Oh, and Mr. McCartney?"

Paul turned back around.

"Good luck on your audition."

He flashed the professor a brilliant smile which almost made the professor regret cursing him. Almost. Jim McCartney bullied him during his time at Hogwarts. It was always for show. Jim McCartney put on a tough act and joined the Death Eaters to cover up the fact that he was a mediocre wizard. If there was a time to be a fly on the wall, it would be during Paul McCartney's audition, just to see if the curse really took.

~~~~

It was time and Paul felt like his heart flew up into his throat. He was hyper aware of his pulse which beat as though he ran a marathon. Twice.

Paul sat nervous, fidgeting with his hands and fingers and picking at the calluses there. Everyone heard every audition and almost everyone was a good singer, but he watched as most of them were turned away. Paul didn't think he stood a chance. He was young and still developing, his voice was still high. And to make things worse, his voice would be changing in the next two years, so he'd have to be relocated. Paul groaned in his seat, tempted to run off and just not audition. But he couldn't. There was no way he could disappoint his mother, who supported him wholly in his decision. She even wrote that his Dad was proud which confused Paul. He decided not to ask to avoid getting a scolding letter or a nasty Howler from his father.

"Paul McCartney?" Professor Flitwick motioned for Paul to come forward.

He gulped and nodded his head. His pulse beat even faster despite being completely prepared. Months, Paul spent making sure the song he chose was perfect because he couldn't be less than.

Flitwick flashed a kind smile towards Paul. "What am I hearing from you, Mr. McCartney?"

Paul straightened his robes. "Golden Slumbers. My mother used to sing it to me." The professor nodded and motioned for him to start. Paul took a deep breath and sang:

_Once there was a way_

_to get back homeward_

_Once there was a way_

_To get back home_

_Sleep pretty darling_

_Do not cry_

_And I will sing a lullaby_

_Golden slumbers fill your eyes_

_Smiles await you when you rise_

_Sleep pretty darling_

_Do not cry_

_And I will sing a lullaby_

Paul closed his eyes and failed to notice the glossy look in the eyes of everyone in the room. He thought over and over in his head, _please let me in, please let me in..._

When he opened his eyes, the room blinked simultaneously as if waking up from sleep. Paul scanned the room for any indication that people fell asleep.

"I must say, Mr. McCartney," Flitwick finally said, "That was an impressive audition. I'll offer you a spot in the choir."

Paul wanted to jump fifty feet in the air. "Thank you, sir, professor." He bowed and leapt off the raised floor in the Great Hall. Smiling to himself, he missed the elderly figure behind him.

"Paul?" A soft spoken voice rang.

He spun around to find himself face to face with the Headmaster. "P-Professor Dumbledore?"

"Fillius was right about your singing, quite extraordinary. I do like to come to Frog Choir auditions, it lets me see the talent that our students bring with them to Hogwarts."

Paul blushed. "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore leaned down slightly. "I do want to talk to you about something in my office, however."

"Have I done something wrong...sir?" Paul croaked. His hands involuntarily shook. There was no way he got in trouble twice in one day.

"No, no, Mr. McCartney. It's about that pesky curse."

"Curse?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but wasn’t overtly surprised. "Oh? Your parents must not have told you. Just come with me. I'll write to your parents saying I've explained everything and that I, as well as Professor Snape, are going to help you control it. Come now."

Paul grabbed his stuff and ran along eagerly behind Dumbledore. His parents had some serious explaining to do.


	5. The Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY. WHAT HAVE I DONE? I REALLY AM SORRY. I DON'T KNOW WHY THIS HAPPENED. please forgive me. Everything went into a totally different direction than I wanted it to. 
> 
> I'm thinking one more chapter in Year One and we move on to Year Two??? I really want to write George in.
> 
> Anyways, I don't own The Beatles and assoc. nor Harry Potter. Thanks for reading and I'M STILL SO SORRY. <3 RingosLiverpool8

The castle winded with corner after corner as Paul followed Dumbledore to his office. Honestly, Paul had no idea where the headmaster’s office was and he never planned to...until now. There was so much he didn't know, like, who cursed him, is it bad, can he actually control it, and biggest of all, what is it?

The pair stopped in front of a large statue of what Paul assumed was a phoenix. He watched as Dumbledore merely waved his hands and said 'Lemon Drops'. Paul's eyes followed the movement of the statue upward. When he looked back down, Dumbledore smiled at him.

"Up this way, Mr. McCartney."

Paul's hazel eyes lightened with curiosity, a look that Dumbledore cherished in all his students. He hoped that childhood spark wouldn't disappear like it did with the rest of the McCartney family. Paul seemed like an adorable, loving child. From what Dumbledore had heard from the other professors, he talked to everyone regardless of family origin or house. Paul McCartney was becoming quite a popular figure around Hogwarts, even with the older students.

Paul looked around the headmaster's office in awe. There were so many books and trinkets on the shelves. He gasped when he saw the phoenix sitting atop a bird swing. The bird shined brilliantly with red and gold feathers.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Fawkes. She's magnificent isn't she? Quite old though. I expect she'll pass in a few years."

"That's sad." Paul reached up and stroked the bird's shining red and gold feathers.

Dumbledore tapped his nose. "But it’s not the end." He waved his hand toward an empty chair. Paul smiled at the optimism and slid himself into the seat.

The older wizard cleared his throat. "I suppose you have questions, Paul."

It was like a pipe burst in Paul's brain. "Why was I cursed? Who did it? What is the curse? Is it bad? Will I die?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Paul, Paul, Paul. It's nothing of the sort and it can be easily controlled. We will just have to work with you. I can't tell you who cursed you or why."

"Oh. What is it then?"

"Siren's Curse."

"A siren?" Paul wondered.

"You have an extra vocal cord which produces a trance-like effect on those you direct your voice at, mostly through singing. After that, they are yours to control." A deep, nasal voice spoke from behind, one that Paul recognized as Professor Snape.

" _Mostly?_ "

"There are some," Dumbledore continued, "who can merely speak and produce the same effect. They can, in a way, switch the power on and off. Those are the ones who learned control at a young age. The ones who do not, end up not surviving due to the stress it puts on just living a normal life."

Paul didn't know what to say. He wanted to control it because he wanted a normal life. One away from all the dark magic. However, this curse seemed to be the result of dark magic and would follow him everywhere.

"What do I have to do?"

~~~~

Paul would have to take daily doses of a specially made potion to numb his extra vocal cord during choir practice and performances. On weekends he wouldn't take the potion but would spend four hours with Dumbledore to learn to feel the curse within him and use it. In order to protect himself and anyone Paul was close to, Dumbledore gave him small pieces of, what looked to be, silver on a necklace. Closer inspection revealed that they had a symbol carved into them. The necklace, Paul was told, would make the wearer immune to his song.

The first Frog Choir performance went amazingly well and Paul was proud. They performed at the last dinner before the Christmas holiday. The potion had worked. No one had that glossy look in their eyes and there was a loud applause, which gave Paul confidence as he walked back to join the Slytherin table. Paul would be going home for Christmas, as he was eager to see his family again. Mike had finally shown magical abilities, according to a letter from his mother, and he wanted to see them.

Zander and Dot to go home as well and Ivan, too. Ivan lived relatively close to the McCartney's, so he and Paul made plans to hang out a few times, meeting at the bus station in town. Paul decided not to tell his parents that Ivan wasn't a pure-blood, he would just lie. His parents could get snippy about those sorts of things…more his father than his mother.

Dumbledore wished them all a wonderful holiday and dismissed them from dinner. Paul stayed back, though, because Dot wanted to ask him something. Zander gave him a curious look, to which Paul just shrugged. He wasn’t entirely sure why she wanted to talk to him, she’d been awfully silent around him, when she was around. Most of the time, she avoided him and it usually ended up being just Zander.

Dot found her way to Paul’s side rather quickly and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hi, Paul.”

“Hi.” Paul gave her a small smile. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Um. I wasn’t really going to ask you anything, I just wanted to give you this.” She handed him a wrapped gift. “It’s a Christmas gift.”

Paul could tell it was a picture frame and he felt bad he didn’t get her anything. “Dot, I didn’t get you anything,” he said as he peeled back the red and green plaid wrapping paper. The photograph was of Zander, Dot, Ivan, and himself. They were standing in one of the towers, laughing. Paul smiled, the photo, he remembered, was right after Slytherin had beaten Gryffindor in Quidditch. They didn’t care.

Dot blushed at Paul’s reaction to her gift. “It’s okay. You don’t have to get me anything.”

“I will though,” Paul said. He would get her something, maybe from the muggle shops in Liverpool.

“I’ll miss you over Christmas, Paul.” To Paul’s surprise, she hugged him and lightly kissed him on the cheek. Paul turned the same shade as the wrapping paper he held in his hand as he realized what was going on. Dot liked him.

“Uh,” he stuttered, “me too, um, I’ll miss you.” They were almost to the common room and Paul couldn’t help feeling a little guilty as she hugged Paul’s left arm as they entered. He saw Zander waiting for them on one of the couches and that feeling of guilt intensified. Dot really wasn’t the one he liked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wild ride....please stick around. It will get better. I'm sorry again.....


	6. The End of the Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So last chapter for Year One!!!! I hope you guys like and thanks for reading! Hop it wasn't super rushed but I really want to write George. So, again enjoy and look forward to Year Two soon!!!
> 
> I don't own The Beatles and assoc. nor do I own HP. This is fiction.

Paul’s second semester at Hogwarts flew by in what seemed like a few weeks. When exam week came, he spent most of his time in the library or somewhere on the grounds by himself. As much as he liked spending time with his friends, they could be a bit distracting to him. Dot and Zander seemed to tug him in different directions and it was a bit mentally exhausting. It didn’t help that Paul’s feelings for them both made him feel guilty for spending more time with one than the other…even though his feelings were stronger around Zander. Really, Ivan was the only one who he could handle being around for more than a few hours. Paul wanted to tell Ivan how he felt, but refrained because he was afraid Ivan wouldn’t understand and then he’d have no one. Of course, he had his mother. She would always understand, but he didn’t want to put anything in a letter because of fear that his father should read it. He’d have to wait and talk to her at home.

Paul looked around from his shady spot under an oak tree at all the other students talking with their friends. He found himself wishing he had someone he could call a best mate, someone with whom he could talk unabashed and without fear of being judged or hated. People liked him, there wasn’t really anyone he knew at Hogwarts who didn’t. Maybe they did, but they didn’t show it. Paul closed his charms notes and let himself daydream for a little while, opening up a notebook from his mother. He doodled pictures of the landscape and of the random faces that walked by. Being completely surrounded by his own thoughts, Paul missed the figure that stood over him.

“Hey, Paul.”

Paul jerked his head upward and felt his heart leap into his throat and butterflies flutter in his stomach. “Zander…”

“What’cha doin’ there?” Zander asked, plopping himself down on Paul’s right, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“N-nothing. Just taking a break from studying,” Paul stuttered, looking into Zander’s striking stormy eyes.

“We missed you at lunch, y’know.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t hungry and I’m worried about my Dark Arts exam.”

“I don’t know why you’re worried. You’re best in the class.” Paul blushed at the compliment and Zander smiled. “I wanted to ask you if you would help me study and help write my final essay for the class.”

“Uh, sure. I don’t have a morning exam tomorrow so we can work tonight…if you want.” Paul stared ahead as he spoke, slightly nervous.

“Thanks, Paul.” Zander scooched closer to Paul and laid his head down on Paul’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Paul sat still, not entirely sure what to do, or what to feel.

~~~~

“Zander, are you listening to me?” Paul asked, slightly annoyed. He and Zander had been studying for an hour and they hadn’t even gotten through the first half of the exam requirements. Zander got just about every question Paul asked him wrong. Paul supposed they should take a break and work on the essay.

“I am. I guess I’m just tired of it. We’ve been going at it for ages.” Zander complained.

“Let’s switch to the essay, then.” Paul pushed aside the textbook to reveal blank pieces of parchment and pushed them towards Zander.

“I’m not good at this stuff, Paul. I don’t know the differences and similarities between jinxes, hexes, and curses. I don’t understand how you’re so good at it.” Zander seemed to gush. He sent pleading eyes towards Paul in an attempt persuade him. If there was one thing Zander was sure of, was that he didn’t intend to write his own essay.

“I’m sure you can name one or two.” Paul pouted at his friends supposed lack of confidence. “Quick: Name one curse and one hex.”

“Um…” Zander pretended to forget.

Paul began to get frustrated, it was like Zander hadn’t even read the book. “Fine. I’ll just write it.”

“Paul, you don’t have to…” Zander lied and furrowed his eyebrows in a seemingly caring way, making Paul’s beat heavily against his chest.

“Just go work on something else. I’ll be fine. Make sure you re-write it though.”

“I hate making you do this…you really are a great friend.”

Paul blushed as Zander stalked off towards the men’s bedrooms. _This is so easy,_ thought Paul, _is he pretending not to know this? No, he’s my friend. I guess he’s just struggling. I’ll have this done in an hour anyway._

****

The end of the year came and Paul sighed in relief. He passed all his exams. Ivan whacked him on the shoulder and told him that he shouldn’t have worried at all. Paul was excited to go back home. He missed his family and couldn’t wait to sleep in his own bed again. Summer nights were his favorite time of day. He could go to the park and lay under a tree for hours, watching the sun set and doodling the stars in his notebook. There was also his guitar, he didn’t bring it with him to Hogwarts because he knew he wouldn’t have time for such things. He could bring it next year though; it would be helpful for when he practiced for choir.

With one more glance around his dormitory, he clicked his tongue, signaling Thisbe to jump on his shoulders. She liked to sit up there like a bird and Paul didn’t mind, it was sort of cute and Thisbe liked the attention.

Paul had one more stop before traveling to the Hogsmeade station. Professor Snape had a few bottles of potion left to give him and the directions for making more. He would have to have his mother and father make him more for the summer. Dumbledore’s hope, however, is that Paul would have complete control over his curse by next year…if he practices daily over the summer. Two hours, Paul was told, two hours a day. He was already making progress and during some of his lessons with Dumbledore, he got it and in some he didn’t. Paul made a pact with himself that he _would_ have it down by next year, because the potion really was rather nasty.

Thoughts about his friends came on the ride back to London. He thought maybe the summer away from them would help clear his mind. That didn’t, however, mean that he didn’t want to tell his mother. He dreaded the talk, sure, but only she could give him the comfort and anonymity he needed. Mike couldn’t know and his father _definitely_ couldn’t know. Paul sighed again and leaned against the window. Ivan joined him shortly after, asking what was wrong. Paul, of course, shrugged in reply, suggesting that he was just anxious to get home. The other boy accepted the excuse with a certain degree of suspicion. Changing the subject appeared to be a good call, so the two young wizards planned out their summer. They decided they would meet at the bus station every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday, and then walk to the park. Paul promised that he would play Ivan a few songs on the guitar.

For the time being, Paul was distracted from his mixed emotions and he hoped that the summer away and Ivan would cause it all to disappear. For good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end of Year One! Paul's journey can only get more exciting from here, right??? :D <3 RingosLiverpool8


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